An Inevitable Possibility
by When Our Stars Align
Summary: Chloe has an interest in words. She likes how simple they can explain everything. Including her emotions. When she meets Beca Mitchell, the simplicity of her emotions are flipped into paradox. An Inevitable Possibility. Minor swearing.
1. An Inevitable Possibility

**A/N: Hi! Its definitely been awhile since the last time I wrote anything, so I hope I haven't gathered to much rust. This is my first story in the PP fandom, and hopefully i'll be posting more here. Reviews and constructive criticism are always welcome. I hope you guys like it :)**

 **Disclaimer: I own no part of the Pitch Perfect movie franchise or its associated partners and characters.**

 **(Also, happy fourth of july to anyone who celebrates in the states!)**

...

 _Logolepsy: (n.) The interest or obsession with words and their meanings._

Chloe always had a fascination with words. She loves how one single word can have so many meanings. She loves how one single word can have so much power. She loves how one moment can be captured by so many different words and still tell the same story. She loves how easily she can express herself.

The redhead is a firm believer that everything can be explained. Everything can be labeled with a word. All things fit a description. All things have at least one word that can be assigned to them.

That was until she met Beca Mitchell.

...

Chloe found herself looking over a sea of freshmen students. She watched as the frat boys held up signs with numbers on them to the bypassing girls. She watched as a group of teens (not so discreetly) got high under a tree. She smiled to herself. She found it interesting that as her life in Barden was coming to an end, the lives of others were just starting. All in one place, all in the same moment.

"Any interest in joining our acapella group?"

She also watched as another girl turned down Aubrey's offer.

The redhead frowned. They had made no progress since the fair had started. She was beginning to panic.

"This is a travesty!"

Aubrey scoffed. "Just keep flyering."

Chloe gave it another 5 minutes of rejections before speaking up again.

"Why don't we just find good singers?" Another scoff.

"I'm not giving up. We have tradition to uphold."

"But Aub-"

"No. We don't stray from tradition."

She remained silent. She always did. Chloe kept on 'flyering'. The redhead scanned the crowd of incoming students. She sighed. Chloe wanted to give up. It had a been a long day and she still had 2 classes waiting for her. She turned to Aubrey fully intent on telling her she had to leave.

But then she stopped. She saw her.

Long brown hair. Navy blue eyes. Her features were gentle, soft, a contrast to the alternative vibe she was emitting. The girl looked to be about 5'3. Her body was slouched, her steps slow and unsure. Almost as if she had no clear destination, just the path i front of her. Chloe noted the way her face stayed indifferent, even when her demeanor changed. She noted the way the girl's eyes darted around, looking as though she was trying to look at everything all at once.

She also noted the small, minuscule, almost unnoticeable way her brain felt a little overwhelmed.

"What about her?", her question accompanied with a gesture to the brunette girl. She received yet another scoff from Aubrey.

"I don't know, she looks a little too alternative for us." Chloe didn't care. She stopped the girl anyway.

"Hi, any interest in joining our acapella group?"

The girl stopped, then looked up.

Chloe ignored the light pounding of her head.

"Oh right, this is like a thing now." She finished, a small smirk etching its way onto her face.

Another pound.

"Oh totes, we sing covers of songs with no instruments. it's all from our mouths." Chloe began to kick herself. She felt an unnecessary need to try and impress this girl and she wasn't doing a good job of it.

"On purpose?" The brunette's smirk grew bigger, eyebrows raised in question. Her tongue peaked slightly out of the corner of her mouth, trying to escape.

Not that she was looking at the girl's mouth.

Another pound.

Chloe suddenly couldn't find it in her to speak.

Another pound.

She saw a mix of scrambled letters in her head. She knew she had the words. She just needed time to decipher them. She needed time.

"Excuse me? Synchronized lady dancing to a Mariah Carey chart topper isn't lame."

Thank fucking God for Aubrey.

"I'm sorry, it just sounds pretty lame." Her tongue peeks out a little farther, her eyebrows taking a teasing lilt to them. Chloe can see her stance change, she can see the girl gain confidence as each second passes.

Another pound.

"We performed at the Cobb energy performing arts center, you bitch." Aubrey all but spits at her.

Chloe continued to try and rearrange the letters in her head.

"Yikes." The brunette looks at her for a moment, before looking back to Aubrey. Chloe sees her tongue recede fully behind her teeth.

Another pound.

"Listen here you bitc-" Aubrey starts, but doesn't get to finish. The brunette cuts her off.

"I don't even sing, but it was nice meeting you guys." She takes a final glance at Chloe, the smirk still playing at her lips. She saunters off.

Another pound.

She watches her leave.

The pounding in her head stops.

She's almost sad that it does.

...

Chloe doesn't understand what happened to her.

She sits in her shared dorm room alone on the couch, bottom lip trapped between her teeth.

She doesn't understand.

 _Paradox: a self-contradictory statement which expresses a form of truth._

She doesn't understand how this girl made her feel like a paradox.

She had felt happy, but scared. Excited, but also nervous. Comfortable and uncomfortable all at once. Confident because she knew she had a plethora of words to her disposal in her head, but uncertain because the words would die in her throat.

She felt like a bird with a fear of heights. She felt like a fish with a fear of drowning. She felt like an inevitable possibility.

This realization frustrated Chloe greatly.

 _Inevitable: unable to be avoided, evaded or escaped; unalterable._

 _Possibility: something that may or may not be made possible. A chance of being false or true._

An inevitable possibility.

It wasn't _possible_.

(Fuck irony.)

It didn't make any sense. How can she feel two completely different and contradictory emotions at once? It's a double negative. They should cancel each other out. Maybe she feels an overly complicated form of nothingness. Chloe doesn't know anymore.

She goes to sleep that night dreaming of fish that fly and birds that swim. She dreams of infinities being greater than other infinities. She dreams of navy blue eyes and long brown hair.

But above all else, she dreams of inevitable possibilities.


	2. Equilibrium

Hello! I wasn't planning to make this a multi chapter story, but I wanted to clear some of the dust on the writing portion of my brain, so here we are again! I hope you guys enjoy this installment. Also, I have made a tumblr soley dedicated to fandom related stuff including my own writing, so you can come visit me at .com

 **Disclaimer: I do not own the Pitch Perfect franchise nor any of the characters associated with the movie franchise.**

* * *

 _Equilibrium:(n.)_

 _a state of rest or balance due to the equal action of opposing forces._

Chloe always liked the idea of equilibrium. She liked how no matter what things will always find a way to return back to normal when life goes awry. The promise of balance and stability calmed her down when she was busy with the ins and outs of everyday life. The worry of meeting paper deadlines, the maintenance of her health, social interactions, acapella competitions. To know that the payoff will be worth it keeps her sane. Keeps her functional.

She doesn't like having nothing to do. It makes her feel useless. Like all her work over the years will be forgotten because of her inability to sustain work for even a day. Days like today.

Chloe is in her shared dorm room. Alone.

She tried to focus on anything but herself. She cleaned her desk, tidied her bed, finished and reread a paper due for her literature course and even decided to go for a quick jog. But she had returned and had nothing left to preoccupy herself with, just time and her thoughts. Thoughts which were running rampant of a girl she only briefly met and will most likely never see again.

It was times like these when her equilibrium was offset. A single force acting alone to slowly drive her mad.

She had tried fleetingly to not think at all. Stare at a blank wall and keep her mind void of any thought. It had worked for all of 7 seconds before her mind escaped the imaginary containment cell she placed it in. She then justly began to think of prison and imagining ways she would end up behind bars.

(Most likely harassment of some sort. Especially if she was drunk, when her limited knowledge of social customs and boundaries flew out the window.)

A sigh escapes from between her lips. There was no use in fighting it.

It was no surprise really when she thought of blue eyes and brown hair almost immediately after her surrender.

A girl she had only known for all of 5 minutes took away her ability to function. She's sure she has other things to do, if only she could clear her head to think of those things.

She threw her head into the couch throw pillow. A muffled groan soon rings threw out the dorm.

She needed a distraction. She couldn't think of her. The girl who took her equilibrium and ran away with it.

She picks up her phone and scrolls through her contacts.

...

She ends up with Tom in the communal showers. She almost feels uncomfortable bringing him here and doing the things she's doing, knowing he was just a futile attempt for distraction. Tom is a good guy. Not the sharpest tool in the shed, but a good guy nonetheless. He's always treated her nice. He's an all too willing distraction. It troubles her that she doesn't feel anything for him. Tall, handsome, muscular, hazel eyes. A guy from the movies really. She wishes she could feel something. But when she looks at him, she wishes his eyes were blue instead of hazel.

She shoves down the pull in her stomach and kisses him. He smiles and returns the kiss all too willingly.

The pull doesn't go away. It tugs at her, desperately trying to get her attention, almost taunting her. She kisses him harder, grasping at the hair on his neck. He pulls back slightly, surprised by her sudden fervor, a questioning quirk of his brow now adorns his face.

"Everything ok Red?"

His concern makes her feel warm. He cares. Shouldn't that be enough? I fake a smile, and nod my head quickly. He smiles again and brings our lips together.

It's not enough.

 _You shout it out, but I can't here a word you say_

 _I'm talkin' loud, not saying much..._

 _You criticize, but all your bullets ricochet..._

 _You shoot me down, but I get up_

A rustle of the shower curtain can be heard through out the showers. A squeak of the shower handle and the steady stream of water follows.

 _I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose..._

His face is ripped from my own. Its the pull in my stomach that draws me out of his loose hold and to the voice. His curious gaze follows me out.

 _Fire away, Fire away..._

I draw the curtain back, ready to introduce myself. I stop.

It's her.

"You can sing!" It leaves my mouth before I can think. The voice stops and she whips around quickly.

"Dude!" She snatches the shower curtain back and covers her body. You see the blood race in her skin, rushing to reach her face. You suddenly feel the steady thump of your pulse against your neck. Its not intense, but its enough to notice. You are both unclothed and bare, bar your shower mates makeshift towel. She continues to look at you, waiting for you to leave. You don't.

She lied to you, and it kind of hurts. You're not sure if its the lie that hurts or the fact that it was her doing the lying.

"Why did you tell us you couldn't sing?"

"Why the hell are you in my shower right now?"

The blood is still in her cheeks and her breaths are quick. She hasn't looked at you in the eyes, instead her eyes choose to skirt around the stall and to the small cracks in the ceiling. You decide to ignore her question altogether and take a quick step forward. The closer proximity reassures you she isn't going to leave. Her breath catches and she takes a step back to match yours. She seems surprised to bump into the wall, if her sudden drop of the curtain is anything to go by. She spins around quickly, arms shielding her midsection.

The younger girl is vulnerable. The cradling of her body, trying to hold her insecurities from tumbling out. Her eyes screwed shut, all of her weight leaning against the wall.

Chloe knows she should leave. She knows she's being selfish. Its her desperation that pushes her forward again, bringing her even closer. She knows she's being reckless.

She can't find it within herself to stop.

"Can you sing for me?"

"Please get out."

"I'm not leaving until you sing."

She doesn't turn her head once during your exchange. Her eyes are still shut and the grip around herself has gotten tighter. You continue to press and add a dramatic sigh of boredom. She looks at you, her eyes scanning your face. Your not sure what she's looking for, but you hope she finds it. You see more than hear the sigh escape past her lips and she turns around, her arms still tightly wrapped around her midsection.

 _I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose..._

 _Fire away, fire away..._

The steady sound of her voice bouncing around the walls is enchanting. You feel it surround you and hold you, like a warm hug and you can't help the wide smile on your face. Gently, your voice harmonizes with hers.

 _Ricochet, you take your aim..._

 _Fire away, fire away..._

 _Shoot me down, but I won't fall_

 _I am Titanium..._

 _Shoot me down, but I won't fall_

 _I am Titanium..._

Your voices blend like colors, the low and powerful tone of her voice with the light and airy tone of your own. They mix and fuse to form a conglomerate of dark hues that remind you of her eyes. Its beautiful and scary and it hits you all at once, and your too far to back away now. So you smile and hope she doesn't notice the sudden change in mood.

"You have a lovely voice."

You turn your head slightly and focus on Tom. He's leaning against the shower stall, looking oddly smug. He gives you both a slight nod and smirk adorns his face.

"Thanks."

The sarcastic voice cuts through the silence and you turn back to the brunette. Your still smiling despite the awkwardness of being completely naked in front of each other.

"Uhh, can you please get out now? Or at least pass me my towel if you both are going to stand there completely out and about if you catch my drift..."

Your broken from your reverie and quickly hand her the towel. She takes it and gives you both an odd glance.

"I was kind of taking a shower so..."

She gestures awkwardly, and you catch the hint to finally leave.

"See you at auditions!"

...

Your back in your dorm when the reality of what you did finally catches up to you. You remember hearing her voice and pulling back her curtain. You remember her terrified look upon entering her shower so unexpectedly.

Fucking perfect.

She's creeped out now. You'll never live this down. Always be regarded as the crazy chick who barged into her shower and forced her to sing.

Your not sure how to feel. Your angry at yourself for not thinking and approaching her after her shower, but you feel oddly confident. The tint of her cheeks and the heat of her gaze left you reeling. You choose not to think about it at all, instead preparing for auditions on Friday.

The same auditions you invited her to. In two days.

You can only hope that she shows up.


	3. Presupposition

**Heyyyyy. I chose to avoid responsibilities for a while but now I am back with a new chapter. I hope you enjoy and comments are always encouraged.**

 **Disclaimer: I own no part of the Pitch Perfect movie franchise or its associated partners and characters.**

 _Presupposition (v.): to suppose or assume beforehand; take for granted in advance._

...

The routine had always stayed the same. Wether it be a wild Saturday night or a tedious Wednesday morning, Chloe had taken to a cycle. Today was no different. A normal Friday afternoon, sitting in an auditorium with loud voices and nervous laughter. She could do it. Go in, sit down, listen, take some notes and leave. The same routine she sat through for 3 years. Today shouldn't be any different.

Except it was.

She had woken up in a foul mood, already dreading the day ahead. It was an unusual sight to see, since she woke up with a fresh face and a new attitude no matter what the day had in store for her. She was sluggish, and in desperate need for coffee.

She all but dragged herself out of bed and into the kitchen, blindly searching for a mug in the many cabinets that never seemed to have any purpose besides looking nice. While most times she appreciated that it made the dorm look cleaner then it actually was, she was tired, and flicking through the almost never ending doors was becoming irritating.

"Fucking doors, what the fuck? Why are there that many? Who put those there, I mean seriously, how ridiculously unnecessary." She huffs out, finally finding a mug with the words 'I'm not santa, but you can sit on my lap' printed on the front. She hears a hushed laugh and turns to see Aubrey, sitting on the couch with a book in her hands.

"While it is amusing to hear you this frustrated over a couple of cabinets, Why are you so grumpy this morning?" She asks, hint of a smile peeking out behind the cover of her law textbook. She sees Aubrey's mug on the table beside her and is grateful she doesn't have to actually make more.

"Bree, can we move?"

"No, and you didn't answer my question."

"If we move I'll answer any question you want."

"How about you answer my question first and then we can move?"

"Really?"

"No."

She sighs and gives up, turning around in search for the coffee pot. She finds it quickly and pours herself a generous cup. She tips the mug back and gladly welcomes the warm liquid and bitter taste in her mouth. She hums contentedly.

"Chlo?"

"Aubrey?"

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You're lying."

"No i'm not."

"Yes you are."

"Just a little tired is all. Nothing to worry about."

Aubrey gives her a look. She can't quite decipher it, but it's taunting and welcoming all at once and suddenly she can't find it within herself to look at her friend anymore. She takes another sip of her coffee, this one suspiciously longer then the last. Within her first two sips she's almost out of coffee. She refills quickly.

"Are you ready to tell me mow?"

Chloe still hasn't turned around, instead focusing on the slow pour of the caffeinated liquid. It's oddly soothing, and she almost forgets to stop pouring when its filled to the brim. She sets the pot down, and turns slowly, facing her best friend.

"Do you think today will go well?" Theres a hint of worry in her words, and if Aubrey hears it, she pretends to ignore it.

"Yes, today will run according to plan. We've already gone through this."

"But what if no one shows up?" She knows its not if no one shows up, it's if she doesn't show up that fills her with such anxiety.

"People come every single year, its nothing to lose sleep over." Chloe can tell Aubrey is trying her best to console her, but it comes out more stern and commanding then it does warm and comforting. It does nothing to quell the nervous tap of her feet or the slight twitch in her brow. She can't shake the feeling low in her stomach that today will go horribly. She takes a small sip of her now lukewarm coffee.

"I don't know Bree, you saw how the activities fair went. Nobody gave us the time of day." That's not entirely true, but she specifically remembers the short brunette whom quickly disregarded them.

"Please Chloe, we will do just fine. Now, I have class in 10, so i'll meet you here before auditions at 1:00. Promise me you'll quit worrying?" She considers her question for a moment, before giving her a lazy shrug.

"That'll do for now. I've gotta go." And just as fast as the words leave her mouth, Aubrey is out of the door.

Chloe takes a minute to stare at the door, willing it to open and bring Aubrey back. She knows its never going to work (having tried this many times with the T.V remote or her glass of water that is placed just out of reach.) but she hopes a little more and tries a little harder.

(It doesn't work.)

She quickly dumps out the rest of her coffee, not in the mood anymore. The mug is forgotten about in the sink and she turns to the small fridge tucked away in the corner of the kitchen. She sees a yellow sticky note with 'Auditions 1:30' written in green marker across the front. She feels her stomach lurch and she no longer feels like eating anything. She exits the kitchen swiftly, and darts to her room. She quickly glances at her alarm sitting atop her dresser and she's not sure if she wants to throw the clock across the room or give it hug when she sees what time it is. It glares 10:37 at her and it feels like too much and too little and she's not quite sure what to do.

She has a lecture at 11:15, but the overwhelming urge to just skip it and lay down in her bed for a little while longer seems like a great idea. (Chloe knows she won't actually do it, but she entertains the thought for a little while longer.)

She shakes her head and grabs some clothes before making her way to the showers.

(She silently hopes that the brunette will be there again.)

...

Chloe sits in her lecture, glancing around rather uninterestedly as the professor drones on about the phony society as seen in the eyes of Holden Caulfield. She doesn't care too much about his endeavors, he's always been a brat trying so hard to be different and complex that he's ended up being just like everyone else. Although well written, she doesn't believe the book is any special, so she spends her time alternating between looking at the clock every few minutes and watching other people work.

She looks at how the girl 2 rows in front of her clicks her pen exactly 3 times before writing notes down, or how the boy a few seats to the left of her tugs on his ear when the teacher says a particularly difficult word. She watches the teacher take 7 paces forward, turn around and take another 7 paces back. Its melodic, the scratches of pen against paper and the hushed whispers of students. Chloe thinks on any other day, she could fall asleep to the music being created.

(But its not just any other day and the cups of coffee she had are keeping her wide awake.)

She surveys the room one last time and looks at the clock again. 12:15. She's got 20 minutes before the lecture ends.

She huffs silently and pretends to be paying attention.

...

Its 12:45 when Chloe gets back to her dorm. She's surprised to see Aubrey waiting for her in the kitchen, chewing on an apple.

"Aubrey what are you doing here?"

"Class got out a little earlier. We've got a little more time to get ready now."

Aubrey tosses the finished apple into the trash bin and looks to Chloe again. She's wearing the same look from this morning, and Chloe becomes very interested in her shoes in that moment.

"You're still nervous aren't you?"

"No. There's no reason to be." She doesn't like to think she's lying, because she's not. She's just not revealing the entire truth. Aubrey looks at her for a little longer, chewing the side of her lip.

"If you say so. Have you eaten?" Chloe is glad Aubrey decides not to press the topic. Its then when her stomach grumbles, and Aubrey gets the answer to her question.

"Come on, there is some left over Thai from yesterday." Aubrey grabs her hand and leads her through the kitchen. She see's the sticky note again, and the familiar lurch in her stomach returns. Chloe doesn't say anything, and watches Aubrey rifle through the fridge until she finds the take out containers.

"Hey can you grab a bowl for me?" A small, almost unnoticeable smirk crosses her face as she holds the containers in her hand and nudges the door closed with her hip. Chloe doesn't question it, as she knows she wouldn't get an answer.

"Sure."

She can't remember which cabinet the bowls are in.

"Fucking doors."

Aubrey chuckles.

...

Aubrey had been right when she said enough people were going to show up. Chloe's actually surprised to see how many girls had turned in applications. She flicks through some of the sheets quickly, but she can't find the picture of the shower singer in any of them. It relieves her a small bit to have a little more breathing time, but the immense wave of sadness takes her and threatens to drown her. The small breathing time isn't enough to catch her final breath.

Its when Justin gives his infamous belly roll and the first performer gets on stage does she snap out of it and pretend to know what she's doing. Being a leader was never her strongest quality, so she's grateful for Aubrey being able to guide her.

"Whenever your ready dude." Donald, the beatboxing treble calls out, not really seeming to care as he continues to talk to Bumper afterwards. A cap comes off quickly, and a flick of red hair whips on stage.

"Hi, yeah, my name is Cynthia Rose." She's confident when she says it, and Chloe can't help but think she would make a perfect bella, despite not fitting the 'traditional bella mold'.

"Not a dude, she's not a dude."

The newly named Cynthia Rose rolls her eyes, and begins her opening bars of the audition.

...

"Alright, we have reached the end of auditions."

Chloe's head snaps up. She fucking knew it.

"Hey Chlo? What did you think about..." Aubrey grasps gently at her shoulder and shakes a little, seeking her attention. Chloe questions her ability to answer any questions about auditions. She hadn't been paying too much attention, listening to the first 20 seconds and then zoning out. She hadn't meant to, but the voices she was supposed to be listening to hadn't sounded like the brunette's and she couldn't concentrate.

"she was a strong singer but she didn't look up during the set..." Aubrey continued to speak and Chloe continued to ignore.

"Oh, wait, it seems we have one more."

Chloe doesn't bother to look up. A stray Treble wannabe or a stoner high note most likely.

"I didn't know we had to prepare that song."

The voice sounds familiar, and so she picks her head up and looks toward the stage.

She sees the brunette from the shower, standing on stage, shifting from toe to toe, making a point to look anywhere but the Bella table. Aubrey looks at her, scanning her up and down and slowly puts down the audition sheet she had in her hand.

"Sing whatever you want then." Chloe can hear the apprehensive tone, and she already nows the blonde doesn't like the girl on stage.

"Alright, let me just... Yeah ok." The girl makes an awkward move for the plastic yellow cup on the table, lazily dumping out the few pens that were left in it. Chloe doesn't take her eyes off of her.

With the cup firmly in her hold, she sits on the stage and places it upside down. The girl hesitates a bit, holding her hands out. Chloe's not sure what she plans on doing, or why the cup was necessary in all of this, but she doesn't question her, just continues to watch.

The girl on stage begins to tap an unfamiliar beat with the cup, flipping it before slamming it back onto the stage. At first it sounds shaky, uncertain almost, but after the second time the taps become louder and the beat becomes smoother and Chloe thinks maybe she could fall asleep to this too.

(But this isn't her lit class and the brunette on stage doesn't click her pen or pull on her ears and talk about Holden Caulfield. She makes music with cups and sings in the shower.)

 _I've got my ticket for the long way round... Two bottle' o whiskey for the way._

She sings the words in time with the beat and Chloe definitely thinks she could fall asleep to her gentle voice and the small skips in her throat. Her voice is beautiful, soft as it reverberates against the walls. She likes to think she can feel it against her skin as goosebumps begin to rise.

 _And I sure would like some sweet company, and I'm leavin' tomorrow what do ya say?_

 _When I'm gone_

 _When I'm gone_

 _You're gonna miss me when i'm gone_

 _You're gonna miss me by my hair_

 _You're gonna miss me everywhere ohh_

 _You're gonna miss me when i'm gone._

Chloe hears the final tap of the cup hit the stage and she briefly worries that when she looks up again, the girl will be gone.

(She doesn't have to worry though, because when she looks up, blue eyes are staring back at her.)

...

 **Come take a trip with me :)**

 **.com**


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